Newsies of the Caribbean
by ThatCrazyKid
Summary: What in the name of Brooklyn? It's a Newsies Pirates of the Caribbean crossover fic! Just ignore the whole time discrepancy and you should do fine...
1. What Kind of Vacation is This?

Well here it is. My first endeavor into the seedy world of Newsies fanfiction. Not only are the Newsies involved, but soon we'll be meeting up with the entire crew of the Black Pearl! This could get interesting... so hold on to your hats, and thanks for reading.  
  
* * *  
  
"Jacky boy, don't get me wrong, I love fine women and liquor, but make a note 'dere of the 'da woid 'fine'," Racetrack seemed less than pleased as he looked around at the rampant chaos and sin that was Tortuga.  
  
"This is horrible! This place is probably festering with disease!" Dave seemed to agree with Racetrack, as well as the rest of the boys. Jack, however, carried on.  
  
"Alright guys, I admit, it's not the paradise I promised, but this here city is the biggest temporary home for pirates this side of the Atlantic. C'mon guys, pirates!" Jack turned to face the rest of the boys, snatched a beat-up hat that was lying in the dirt, and made a few swishing gestures with his right hand, smiling wildly.  
  
"Great," Dave said, "pirates. So much for disease, we're gonna be lucky to get out of here without getting our throats slit." Dave didn't notice Itey sneaking up behind him in full stealth mode. At the most opportune moment, Itey grabbed Dave around the neck, causing Dave to shriek like a girl.  
  
"Ya best be wary, matey, 'dese here parts 'dere ain't no law, ya savvy?" Itey said in his best pirate accent. The rest of the group laughed, but Dave looked less than pleased.  
  
"Not funny," he said, still rubbing his neck.  
  
"Ah, lighten up Davey," Itey joked, giving Dave a friendly punch in the shoulder and then walking up to the head of the group. He stepped into place alongside Skittery and Dutchy, who were both observing their surroundings with mounting concern.  
  
"Where exactly are we staying?" Dutchy ventured.  
  
"The Drunken Pig: Tavern and Inn," Jack said, reading from a yellowing piece of parchment he had folded up in his pocket.  
  
"Sounds like a fine establishment, if I do say so myself," Racetrack, who had now advanced several paces beyond the rest of the group, said with only a hint of sarcasm.  
  
"Is this it here?" Skittery said, stopping and gazing up at a decrepit sign with a pig with a dazed look in its eyes painted on.  
  
"That's where we're staying!" Dave exclaimed.  
  
"That's where we're staying," Jack proclaimed happily. Racetrack stopped several feet up the muddy street, looked at the group, then looked up at the sign, then back at the group, then to the sign again.  
  
"And a fine establishment it is!" He announced, rejoining the others.  
  
"A thought you were less than excited about this whole 'vacation'," Skittery said, making air-quotes on the last word.  
  
"Well, I'm tinkin' 'dat I might as well make 'da most out of it, ya know?" Racetrack responded. He went to step forward when suddenly he found himself hurtling toward the ground at an ever-increasing speed. Itey nonchalantly slid his foot out from under Racetrack as the latter pulled himself up, his entire front now covered in mud.  
  
"Ar! Now yer set to be a pirate!" Itey said.  
  
"Why ya dirty rotten scabba', I oughta soak ya tree ways from Sunday," Racetrack started towards Itey, who stepped back nimbly. Luckily, Jack squeezed between them.  
  
"Hey, hey, is this any way to start our vacation?" He asked, alternating his gaze from Itey to Racetrack. "Racetrack, I'm sure the proprietors of 'dis place can front ya a bucket of water to clean up with. Itey, what the hell?" Itey just grinned.  
  
"Shall we then?" Dutchy had been holding the door open for a while now and was growing rather impatient.  
  
"I think we shall." Itey skipped past Dutchy and into the dark tavern of the Drunken Pig, the rest followed.  
  
As Dave passed Dutchy he muttered what he thought was under his breath, "Crazy bastard."  
  
"Not as crazy as your mom!" was Itey's retort from somewhere further within the building. Dave looked flushed and hurried onward. Dutchy just smiled as he shut the door.  
  
* * * 


	2. Inside the Drunken Pig

Well, hopefully you liked Chapter 1 enough to move on to Chapter 2... What am I saying? Of course you did, you wouldn't be reading this if you didn't. Thanks! Hmm... I think it's best just to let the text speak for itself. So without further ado... Chapter 2!  
  
* * *  
  
The inside of the Drunken Pig was much like the streets of Tortuga, except compacted into a much smaller area. Dutchy fought to catch up to the rest of the group, which had immediately been swallowed in the disarray that filled the tavern. A wooden mug glanced the top of Dutchy's head, and as he turned he felt a large mass push against him, knocking his glasses to the floor, which was nothing more than dirt.  
  
"'Ey! You tryin' ta star... sometin'...?" slurred the person who had bumped into Dutchy. Dutchy, kneeling and searching franticly for his glasses, turned in apprehension. Standing over him was a monstrosity of a man; nearly three times his size. He was covered in filth and had a beard that looked as though it hadn't been trimmed in years. Dutchy tried to say something, but hardly a sound escaped his lips. Then he noticed that the man was swaying rather oddly.  
  
"Are, are you alright?" Dutchy asked. The man blinked twice, then passed out like a felled tree. Another drunk tripped over him and rolled right into a table, knocking beer and bread and candles to the floor, and inciting a fight from the two men sitting there. Dutchy found his glasses, put them back on, and tried to push his way through the crowd. However, two women, wearing too much make-up and not enough clothes, grabbed his arms and pulled him aside.  
  
"Look at this cute lil' boy, Rosie!" one of the women, with long dirty blonde hair exclaimed.  
  
"'E's a cutie, isn't 'e?" the other woman, Rosie said. Her name was clearly inspired by her flaming red hair, which matched her dress in turn. "What's your name, boy?"  
  
"Uh... Dutchy." The two women were surprisingly strong.  
  
"Dutchy! Did you 'ear that Mariah? 'Is name is Dutchy! You want a cookie Dutchy?"  
  
"Uh... I have to go find my friends..." Dutchy was getting rather concerned. How far ahead were they now? Had they not noticed that he was no longer with them?  
  
"Oh, stay with us!" Mariah shrieked, her fingers digging into his arm. Dutchy ducked low to the ground and pushed outward, effectively slipping from the women's grasp.  
  
"Sorry, maybe next time, I really gotta go," Dutchy said, moving away as quickly as possible. Ignoring the cries of the abandoned women, he pressed on to the bar. There he saw Jack, Racetrack, Itey, Skittery, and Dave talking to the barkeep. Itey looked over and recognized Dutchy. He smiled wide.  
  
"Hey Dutchy-boy, think fast!" He snatched something from Jack, who was clearly perturbed by this, and tossed it over the bar to Dutchy, who fumbled for a moment, and then managed to get his hands around the object. He saw that it was an old brass key.  
  
"Itey, that's our only room-key," Jack lectured. "It's probably a bad idea to be throwing it around in a packed tavern." Dutchy made his way over to the group and passed the key back to Jack, who was clearly pleased.  
  
"Ya get lost for a bit 'der Dutchy?" Racetrack joked. He was still caked in mud, but he seemed to have either gotten over it or forgotten about it.  
  
"I, I just got a held up in the crowd," Dutchy responded.  
  
"Well, now that we're one big happy family again, what say we head out of this hell-hole and find our room?" Dave kept looking around the tavern nervously, as if they might be attacked by pirates or become infected with the plague at any moment.  
  
"Agreed," Jack said. "Right this way gents." And he led them down the hall and up a rickety wooden staircase.  
  
The heavy wooden door groaned as Jack pushed it open, revealing a room no larger than Dave and Les's bedroom back in New York. Dave was the first one through the door, pushing his way past Jack, Itey, and Racetrack to get in.  
  
"'Ey!" Racetrack yelled as Dave shot past him. "What's 'da big rush 'dere Davey-boy?"  
  
"This is where we're sleeping?" Dave cried in disappointment.  
  
"This is where we're sleeping!" Jack responded, stepping through the door.  
  
"Hold on," Skittery said, after surveying the area. "There's only one bed."  
  
"Down!" Itey yelled, leaping onto the bed and lying with his hands behind his head, looking smugly at the others. There was a pause. Everyone looked around at each other anxiously.  
  
"Shall, shall we draw straws then...?" Skittery asked.  
  
"Jeez, I'll share the bed with him," Dutchy said, walking over to where Itey appeared to have fallen asleep.  
  
"Thanks buddy!" Itey said, his eyes opening suddenly. Dutchy jumped back at this. He sighed, wondering whether or not he had made the best decision.  
  
"Well where are the rest of us gonna sleep?" Dave asked.  
  
"On the floor I guess," Jack replied, his usually positive demeanor seemed to have taken a heavy blow.  
  
"'Da floor?" Racetrack said, stomping his heel on the solid wooden floor. "What kind 'a vacation is 'dis?"  
  
"Well, I'm sure we can at least get some blankets and pillows..." Jack offered.  
  
* * *  
  
Dave was less than pleased as he passed his hand through each of the holes in the ragged horse blanket the barkeep he had been given.  
  
"You could grate cheese with this blanket," he said.  
  
"What is this? A bag of rocks?" Skittery actually seemed sincere as he tried to make his "pillow" somewhat comfortable. Meanwhile, Itey had actually fallen asleep, somehow sprawled over the entirety of the bed, and was snoring rather loudly.  
  
"Are you guys sure you don't want to trade?" Dutchy asked again, sitting on the very edge of the bed. Dave just laughed. Dutchy looked over to Jack, who was trying his hardest to make himself comfortable with his horse blanket and mysterious sack. He tossed the blanket off in aggravation and stood up, then began pacing around the room.  
"Racetrack's sure taking his sweet time getting cleaned up," Dave said.  
  
"And why did he take his blanket and pillow with him?" Skittery inquired. It was at this point that Racetrack burst through the door, a massive grin on his face.  
  
"'Ey 'dere chums!" he said, clearly pleased with himself over something. "Skittery, ya'll nevah guess what's in 'dat 'dere pillow." Skittery looked at him oddly, then at the pillow.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Dave asked, but Jack had snatched up his pillow and slit it open with his pocketknife. Before he could even look inside, Racetrack told them all.  
  
"Grain!" he exclaimed. Jack pulled out a handful to accentuate his point. Everyone looked confused.  
  
"I know it may not look like much... but I sold mine to some drunken guy at 'da market for..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Fifteen pieces of bronze!" Racetrack stood in the doorway expectantly for a few moments.  
  
"Well where are they?" Skittery asked.  
  
"I didn't keep 'dem ya knucklehead," Racetrack replied. "I traded 'dem for..." He paused again; everyone just seemed to be annoyed at this point. Racetrack continued nonetheless. "A real pillow!" HE cried, holding the pillow out triumphantly. The mood shifted quickly from impatience to excitement.  
  
"'Dat's the best news I ever heard!" Jack exclaimed. Everyone nodded in agreement. Itey kept snoring.  
  
"So hurry up before 'da guy passes out or somethin'." Racetrack said. Jack, Skittery, and Dave grabbed their bags of grain and started for the door. Dave paused, however.  
  
"What about the blankets?" he said.  
  
"What's wrong wit' 'da blankets?" Racetrack asked. Dave gave him a funny look and continued out the door. "What a nancy-boy," Racetrack commented as they left. Dutchy, who hadn't really been paying attention, looked up at him.  
  
"Who?" He asked. "Skitts?"  
  
"No," Racetrack replied, looking at Dutchy oddly, "Davey-boy 'dere."  
  
"Oh, I thought you didn't like Skittery," Dutchy said off-handedly.  
  
"What? Who told ya 'dat?"  
  
"I dunno, that's just what I heard."  
  
"I love Skitts! Who tinks I don't like Skitts?"  
  
"Forget it," Dutchy said. Racetrack stood for moment, deciding whether or not to let it go. Choosing the path of least resistance for once, he threw his pillow into what was now "his corner". He looked over to Dutchy, who was examining the blanket that had been covering the bed, but was now crumpled up at its foot.  
  
"'Dis place is duller 'dan Davey's sistah," Racetrack commented. Dutchy gave him a questioning glance. "Ya wanna go check out 'da town some more?"  
  
"What about sleeping beauty here?" Dutchy said over Itey's snoring.  
  
"Oh right, 'da dirty rotten scabbah. I tell ya, I got half a mind ta take a bucket 'o mud, or even bettah, manure, and just-" Dutchy had to stand to stop Racetrack from advancing on Itey any further.  
  
"Actually, looking around doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all," Dutchy said as he pulled Racetrack out of the room.  
  
"Hold on, I tink it's a much bettah idea to stay heah now 'dat I tink of it..." Racetrack said, trying to fight Dutchy as he was pulled out into the hall.  
  
"No, you're right, we should get our bearings," Dutchy replied sternly as he coaxed Racetrack towards the stairs. "We're gonna be here for while, after all."  
  
And they headed back out into Tortuga.  
  
* * *  
  
Big hugs and thanks to KP and Fifi, who are the entire reason you're reading this right now. You guys rock, and you need to update every day!  
  
Special thanks to KP, Q, and Laney for reading these first two chapters and loving them. Seriously, you're all too kind, and I expect to see some reviews out of all of it. So get going! Thanks again.  
  
Peace out. 


End file.
